The Sunspire well that was a bit of a drive-by.

Liffey couldn't help herself. As soon as she and @Rannoch had gotten to the other side of the Sunspire mountain range, she had turned their trajectory Northward. It was entirely out of their way and would likely add an entire extra day to their trip, but her heart demanded they visit. It had been such a long time since they'd been there, and if this trip was about reconnecting, then there was no place else for them to go.

They had arrived in their former territory as dusk had begun to fall. She had been so miserable at Moonspear and so happy at Sunspire. She had chosen Sunspire to be the place she and Rannoch lived out the rest of her days. It was meant to be a kingdom for the Frostfurs--the current generation and for all generations to come. But she'd been forced to abandon it, and thinking of the events that had transpired that had caused the land's downfall filled her with a toxic bitterness that this trip was supposed to be healing her from.

Still, she lead them through the familiar slopes until they were standing beneath the willow that marked their former den, where they had raised their first litter. Liffey watched solemnly as the long, dangling boughs danced across the stream that flowed past, remembering the happy days spent on this very shore.

"Remember when Deshyr was stung by that bee?" Liffey said, smiling softly, "This little pup, sobbing and yelling 'I hate them, I hate them!' while we pulled the stinger out and for hours afterwards." Her poor sweet girl. I had been terrible in the moment as she'd felt as though she were the worst mother in the world by letting her daughter get stung by a bee. But in retrospect, it was just another fond memory.

Rannoch had recognized Liffey's purposes the moment that her paws turned in the direction of Sunspire. Like his wife, he was curious to see how their former territory had fared in their absence. As expected, the land had never fully recovered from the overpopulation. 

 Rannoch was cautious as they trekked further into the province, as recollections of their previous life overwhelmed him. Sunspire was where he and Liffey had intended to begin their legacy, and what was left was a shell of what it had once been. The prey had moved on, and the territory remained vacant—t was just like it had been when they had abandoned their claim. He couldn't help but feel guilty; their earlier aspirations had died with the land. 

In time, they arrived at their former rendezvous site, and he felt newfound grief overcome him. Life had been much more straightforward— more complete— when they had lived here. It was weird to be back, knowing that some of their family members were not with them.

Thankfully, Liffey was there to re-divert his thoughts. He turned, his smile soft, as he looked at his wife. "She was horrified," Rannoch agreed, his spirits raising as he recalled the incident. "But I think Breccan was even worse off—do you remember how mortified he looked?" he chuckled, blinking away the tears that had once threatened to fall. "Do you think that we were doing it to her on purpose?"

Liffey laughed as Rannoch brought up the memory of Breccan's reaction to the ordeal. While Wisp had remained her usual aloof self and Remi had been tending her, their son had simply stared in horror at what was transpiring. She shook her head fondly as she remembered and gave a shrug in response to his question. "I don't know... I wonder if they even remember it, they were so young," she commented thoughtfully, thinking that they likely did. At least Deshyr did.

"I can't believe they're almost a year old," she continued with a shake of her head, "It seems impossible that so much time has passed already."

"I don't think they would," Rannoch replied. "They were so young," about the same age that their newest litter current was, "But who knows... they could surprise us." They'd have to ask Breccan and Deshyr when they returned home. 

Rannoch was in full reminiscing-mode, and he continued to reminisce. "Remember the time that they all tried meat for the first time?" he asked. "And how excited Breccan had been after he ate his first bite? He was the happiest boy in the world."

"Oh my goodness, yes," Liffey said with a laugh, "My mother always lead me to believe that weaning was the most terrible thing in a mother's life. Apparently, Eljay didn't take to it very well. I was so surprised when Breccan went for it like that." She didn't know just how awful it had been for her mother, and what that feeling of intense frustration and helplessness had lead her to do. It was likely better that she didn't know. She had enough to judge her mother for already.

"Wisp was none too pleased, though," she added quietly, sobering a bit as she turned the conversation towards their lost daughter.

"Huh," Rannoch remarked. "I remember you being nervous about weaning them, but I'm not sure you ever told me why." It made more sense, now that he had context. "How did she eventually get him to eat meat?" he wondered, curious to hear how the story had progressed. 

The recollection of Wisteria brought a frown to his lips, and he nodded in reply. "She didn't take too long," Rannoch reminded Liffey. "At least, not as long as is seems that Eljay took."

Liffey frowned, trying to remember what her mother had said exactly about it. It was hard to recall. Finley had been oddly vague when she'd pressed for more details. "I'm not sure. She never really said," she replied, "She always turned kind of odd about it in the end. She might've had to refuse him any milk at all to get him to eat meat. Maybe it had to go a little too far for comfort." She couldn't imagine her mother near starving her older brother, but it did seem like something bad had happened. Finley had always been such an open book, but this particular event seemed to be firmly locked away.

She shook her head, acknowledging that even Wisp had come around without too much trouble. She scanned her mind for a different memory, one to take them away from the edge of the melancholy that always threatened them when they thought of her. She couldn't come up with one related to their kids, but that didn't mean she drew a blank. "D'you remember when we met?" Liffey asked, suddenly feeling a stab of shyness as though she were that yearling again, meeting a handsome boy for the first time, "What went through your mind then? When you first saw me, I mean. What did you think?"

It made sense to Rannoch that Finley hadn't revealed the totality of her motherhood struggles. "I couldn't imagine having to do that with our kids," he replied, his voice sympathetic. They'd been blessed with piglets, for the most part. "I hope we never have to," Rannoch added, adding the sentiment for good measure—he didn't be the one responsible to jinxing them. 

Their conversation shifted considerably with Liffey's next remark, and Rannoch suddenly felt a boyishness that he had not experienced in quite some time. "Well, I thought you were the most beautiful girl that I had ever seen, and that I had to talk to you" Rannoch admitted with a bashfulness to his voice. "I had never felt that way about anybody I'd met," he added. 

"What did you think of me?" Rannoch asked in return.

Liffey nodded her agreement. Her kids thus far had been good about moving on to meat, including her latest batch. But she and Rannoch did have a few more batches to go, and she knew now from experience that there was no predicting what was in store. Her second litter had thus far been so very different from her first. And she knew from comparing herself, Lagan and Lucy to Eljay that her mother's had been night and day as well.

His response to her question illicited a small smile and then an outright laugh from her. She gazed fondly at him as her tail wagged. It was such a very Rannoch response, she couldn't help but shake her head a bit. "I thought you were damn good-looking," she confessed with a small chuckle, "I was disappointed when you left. And then when you found me again, it just felt like... Like it was fated or something." Liffey shrugged, a bit embarrassed. She didn't believe in things like fate or destiny, so it made her feel silly to even suggest such things.

"I thought that you were damn good looking" Liffey admitted; Rannoch couldn't help but smile impishly at the compliment. When she elaborated, he nodded and realized that they had felt similarly. "I really didn't want to leave you," he admitted. "But we had just met, and I remember not wanting to come off as a total creep... I didn't want to ruin my chances with you." 

When Liffey spoke about their fate, Rannoch nodded in agreement. "I had a feeling about you from the start... I don't know how to explain it, but I felt like even though I was leaving you that night, I'd see you again."

Liffey laughed softly at his confession, shaking her head lightly. She had never thought he was creepy. She remembered him lingering for a moment after Charon had approached her. It had made her feel safe, as though she had just known he had remained there to make sure Moonspear's alpha hadn't meant her any harm. He hadn't in the end (which isn't to say he didn't eventually), but it still had meant something to her that he'd stayed.

"You know what I remember about that night we spent together?" she asked hesitantly, already feeling silly for telling him this, "I remember when... Oh my gosh, it's so silly. You'll laugh at me, but... I remember when you first said my name. All you said was, 'It's nice to meet you Liffey, and I just... I don't know. I'd obviously heard my name said so many times before, but there was just something different about when you said it. It was like... I'd never heard my name said before."

God that was stupid. She looked away with a blush, surprising even herself. After all they'd been through, was it really possible to feel embarassed in front of him anymore?

Yeah.

There was a naiveté in the way that Liffey revealed her truth, and it made Rannoch smile. "I don't think you've ever told me that," he replied. "But, I don't think that it is silly at the all—quite the opposite, actually..." he leaned closer, poking his nose to her cheek. "I think it's one of my favorite things you've said to me." 

They two wolves lingered at their former den-site for quite some time, reminiscing on their past endeavors. Eventually, as the day grew old, and night overcame the Sunspire Mountain Range, Rannoch and Liffey retired to their former den... and banged.